


Wonderful Luck

by hypocretin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 17:51:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocretin/pseuds/hypocretin





	Wonderful Luck

❝ _had we met earlier in life—as children—do you imagine we would have been friends?_ ❞

                                                                                       The question meets Vex’ahlia’s ear in a stormless, plainspoken

                                                                             tone, but very much out of thin air, and it takes her gently by surprise.  

                                                                             Percy is dear to her; he is family by all measures that matter, so it is  

                                                                             her instinct to dismiss the question with some lightheartedly flippant

                                                                             reassurance—but she cannot disregard the careful, gauzy

                                                                             earnestness that touches her companion’s voice, and it gives her

                                                                             pause. She has known Percy long and well enough to hear the way

                                                                             his manner of speaking becomes very plain when conversation

                                                                             reaches matters that weigh against his heart, and though she does  

                                                                             not care to linger upon his question, she knows that to cast this rare

                                                                             extension of vulnerability aside would be too cruel a thing to do.

                                                                                       The thought rests against her mind with a strange and

                                                                             uncomfortable shifting weight that is difficult to look directly at. Much

                                                                             of Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan’s youth has been colored by loneliness, and

                                                                             against such sorrow it is appealing to imagine Percival’s friendship in

                                                                             childhood—to allow her imagination to bend toward anything so

                                                                             pleasant. For a moment she almost believes those thoughts of them

                                                                             absorbed in studies together while her brother lounges in his chair

                                                                             beside them. What gentle light to her eye such daydreams bring fades

                                                                             quicker than her voice can follow, though, and the quiet sting of pain

                                                                             that replaces it brings her head to a bow.  

                                                                                       When she does speak, she is instead honest;    

                                                                                       “I imagine not.” she says, a gentle touch of regret to her voice.

                                                                             “However kind or polite you might have been, my brother and I suffered

                                                                             no shortage of unkindness for our heritage at the hands of a class not

                                                                             very unlike your own. We were very…codependant back then—more so

                                                                             even than we are today, if you can imagine.” A small laugh catches in

                                                                             her voice as she finishes the thought, one that Percival sees himself  

                                                                             joined in on with a curt breath of laughter that serves to mitigate their

                                                                             discomfort in the matter some, and for a brief moment the pair chance

                                                                             a shared look before their eyes fall away again. Vex’ahlia continues,

                                                                             “I don’t know that we would ever have opened ourselves up to you in

                                                                             that time.”

                                                                                       A quiet nod bobs Percival’s head as he smiles in a way Vex’ahlia

                                                                             finds strange and bitter. “I thought not.” he says, and though Vex had

                                                                             held no delusion that he did not know her answer before he’d asked, to

                                                                             hear him say it aloud pricks her chest with regret, and she leans toward  

                                                                             him reflexively to catch his eye again. When she succeeds, she smiles  

                                                                             warmly at the human, touching her hand to his. “What wonderful luck it

                                                                             was, then, to have only found one-another when we did.”


End file.
